Radiance
by Ellyrianna
Summary: We've found a kind of paradise below a sky so new. Miroku/Sango.


**Radiance**

_start something new_

**--**

She awoke from her light sleep to the sound of laughter coming from outside. It hadn't been very loud, but it had been loud enough to wake her up, apparently; that or she had just hadn't been sleeping deeply. She sat up, and her back ached from the twisted position she'd slept in beside the futon. A glance at the man still sleeping in it, undisturbed, a faint tinge of color on his face, showed that he was the same as before she'd fallen asleep. A sigh escaped her before she could stop it.

Pushing herself to her feet, she tottered across the room to the door of the hut, which was covered by a reed mat. She leaned against the doorframe, blinking the last remains of sleep out of her eyes, and moved the curtain aside just a little bit. A tree several yards away, standing tall in the clear, sunny morning, was occupied by two people, although one appeared to be asleep against the other.

More laughter, and then she realized that the one _couldn't_ be asleep, because the sound of the laughter was most definitely female. The reincarnated priestess, who had been just leaning against the hanyou, sat up properly and turned to look at her companion. Even from behind them, from a ways away, she could still see the smile on the hanyou's face. It matched the priestess'.

Sunlight filtered in between the two profiles, which were close enough to each other that their noses seemed to be touching. Suddenly there was no sunlight between them.

She turned away, letting the mat fall back into place over the door. The elderly priestess had taken the kit out somewhere; probably to gather herbs, she decided, and made her way back to the futon. A corner of it was rumpled and wrinkled where she had fallen asleep, and self-consciously she smoothed it out, not wanting him to wake up and realize that she hadn't dutifully been watching after him.

She had promised to be his wife what seemed like years ago; she wasn't about to let him believe that she hadn't been fulfilling her part as his caretaker even before they were married.

He twisted in his sleep, tossing his head, and she put a hand on his forehead, slipping it underneath his inky bangs. He seemed to settle at her touch, calming himself, and her actions served the dual purpose of checking his temperature, which, before, had been soaring. It had declined rapidly, and now he was just a little warm; hardly something to be concerned over. Still, she refused to believe that all danger regarding his condition had passed, and instead took her hand away and took up one of his.

She heard the laughter again, coming from outside still, slightly muffled at times. Sango didn't need to see them to know what they were doing, to know what they shared, to know the mutual love between them that she feared trembled and shook between she and her _houshi. _

Her thumb had absently been stroking the skin of his hand, and she stopped it abruptly, slightly embarrassed. Why shouldn't their love be as strong as the miko's and the hanyou's? It seemed to her like they had admitted it long before the two of them had ever wanted to reveal their true feelings even if they were plain to everyone who could see.

Still, there they were, laughing and sleeping together and hugging and _kissing _and she was sitting beside a currently incapacitated man with wandering hands. Shouldn't they had been acting the way the miko and the hanyou were now long ago? Shouldn't they have displayed their affections in public instead of waiting for night

(_my time of day is the dark time_)

when no one could tell that they were just as in love as anyone else?

She had been staring at their hands, fingers intertwined, as she thought everything, as she heard the miko and the hanyou, as she wondered why she and the houshi didn't have what their friends had. She brought her eyes up from their hands, which weren't much to look at, and instead saw her _houshi_'s eyes open and looking at her.

Every negative thought that had crossed her mind immediately left when she saw his open eyes – blue-violet and piercing, cloudy with sickness and sleep, dark with secrets and yet light with love. She blinked several times, watching him without expression and without saying a word.

"Are you tired, Sango?" he asked in his quiet voice, slightly hoarse from sleep and lack of water, although his eyes were clearly focused on hers. His judgment wasn't obscured, despite everything they'd been through in the past few days.

"No," she managed to say, and somehow conjured a smile. Their love, the miko's and the hanyou's, publicly displayed and easily readable. She and her _houshi, _quiet in their secrets, keeping their pain inside, hiding their emotions; a secret private love that was all the more special that no one could understand it, attempt to empathize, except themselves.

"Good," he said, smiling as well. It was small, barely there, but it was there nonetheless, drawn out despite fatigue and illness for her sake. Always smiling for her sake; always by his side, for his sake. He briefly let go of her hand, which surprised her, and maneuvered himself in a way that he was able to push himself into a sitting position with his palms flat against the wooden floor. She was behind him instantly, hooking her arms around his stomach to support him, and his small smile widened a bit.

He kissed her cheek, and she couldn't retain her blush.

"I certainly hope you slept last night, Sango. Wouldn't want you becoming sick yourself on my behalf," he told her, and she just shrugged. Sunlight framed the reed mat that hung in the doorway and shined into the hut, hitting the two of them, hunched together like conspirators.

"That's what people in love do," she said, and she wasn't even aware that the hanyou and the miko were laughing again.


End file.
